Water Colour
by Zandakar
Summary: Over a year has passed since Wonder Woman decided not to pursue a relationship with Batman, but old feelings still linger and perhaps that time apart has only made the flame of attraction burn brighter.


_Disclaimer – All characters are owned by WB/DC, no profit was made from this fic, tis all in good fun._

_Water Colour_

_**Watchtower**_

It was easy to see that after nearly three hours of this meeting that the members were getting bored. Even Superman looked restless; he had vacated his chair and was stood gazing through the large window down on Earth; Flash was drumming his fingers at super speed across the table top so fast that Diana thought that only she, Kal and perhaps J'onn could hear it; Green lantern had made a construct of some sort of puzzle that had claimed his attention; she was trying very hard to listen to what J'onn was saying but both Flash and Green Lantern were distracting her. Only Batman seemed to be paying any attention, his elbows rested on the table and his fingers were laced together, as he fixed his scowl on J'onn.

"Both Green Arrow and Black Canary have volunteered to keep an eye on Roulette," J'onn intoned sounding serious as he read off the seemingly endless list of other League members responsibilities and recent actions, but Diana felt the gentle flicker of amusement from him across her mind. _"I think it is time we took a break. I appear to have lost their interest."_

She hid her smile behind her hand. _"If there is nothing urgent, and I know that there is not, then I think it is time we called it a night my friend."_

"Does anyone have anything that they'd wish to add?" J'onn asked.

"Nope. We done here?" Flash asked, standing up hopefully.

J'onn looked at them all, and finally his gaze settled on Batman. "Is there nothing you'd like to add, Batman?"

"No." Succinct as always. Diana didn't hide her smile this time.

"Then meeting adjourned."

Green Lantern stood up and stretched. "Finally! I was really starting to get a pain in my lower back. Can't we get more comfortable chairs?"

"You can make anything you think of," Flash pointed out. "Make yourself a chair. Or at least make us all cushions. Except for Bats of course, justice doesn't need a soft pillow for it's behind, only hard plastic."

Diana watched both Flash and Lantern leave, sharing in each other's jokes. She looked to batman and wasn't at all surprised that he had mostly ignored their jibes, the narrowing of his eyes being the only indication that he had heard them.

Smiling she stood and stretched. Lantern had a point; these chairs weren't all that comfortable to sit on for hours on end. She crossed the room to join Kal as he continued to gaze out the window.

"Something on your mind?" She asked quietly.

"No, nothing much. Or nothing all that important anyways." He smiled. "I just had to get away from Flash's tapping.

"Ah, yes it was... annoying."

"And yet neither of you asked him to stop," J'onn said.

"If we had he only would have started with his feet," Diana replied.

"Or he would have started doing his super speed butt shuffle," Kal added quietly.

"Yes, now _that_ is annoying. Besides." Diana shrugged. "He can't help it. I'm sure it annoys him that we ask him to try and sit still for so long."

"He's wearing a hole in the table," Batman said slowly. His gaze was fixed on the far end of the table where Flash had been drumming away with his fingertips.

Kal walked over and looked down at the table, running his fingers across it. He smiled, clearly amused. "I suppose it was bound to happen eventually."

"The metal this table is made from isn't found on Earth, it's one of the hardest substances in the universe. And he is wearing a hole in it."

"Imagine how short a time an IKEA flat pack table would have lasted."

Batman didn't look amused.

Kal straightened up and looked at him, his eyes glowing with mirth. "It's taken him years to make this small groove. It'll take him years still to actually make a hole. We'll tell him to ease up."

"Or to tap his fingers on a different part of the table," Batman said acidly.

Diana, wanting to see this erosion the Flash had caused, moved to the table and bent over it. She ran her fingers across, feeling the change in texture as the table grew gradually smoother before dipping ever so slightly into a shallow and near insignificant trench. It was doubtful that anyone without either super-senses or Batman's level of paranoid perception would even notice it.

"That's actually quite impressive," she said. Now that she knew about it she would probably always notice it. "Has he worn a similar hole with his feet?"

Kal actually looked worried by this. His head snapped down and she saw the faintest blue glow to his irises as he used his vision to check the floor for damages.

Both J'onn and Batman were also looking down. J'onn didn't look too concerned, but she could feel his concern touch her mind as well as his amusement. Batman was, naturally, glaring.

"I was joking," she said.

"Don't. You're a poor comedian," Batman bit off.

She huffed out a breath.

"_Take no notice of him," _J'onn told her. _"His mind is elsewhere tonight."_

"_I wasn't going to take any notice of him, especially if he is in one of his moods."_

"_Are you attending the function in Hamburg?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Then perhaps you should be getting going, it is getting late."_

Her head snapped up and she looked to J'onn. "Good point," she said out loud. Both Kal and Batman looked at her, neither looking too confused since they both guessed that she must have been speaking with J'onn telepathically. "As much fun as inspecting the damages incurred by a bored Flash is, I have places to be." She offered them all a smiled and turned to leave. "I'll see you all later."

"You're going to the summit in Hamburg?" Batman asked. He clearly already knew the answer, he didn't sound remotely curious.

She nodded.

"Then I hope you enjoy your evening of corrupt politicians and warlords pretending at being state rulers."

She quelled her flash of annoyance at him. "There will be more there than the corrupt. Many are there to support the relief efforts in Qurac."

"Please, Princess, we both know that by belief efforts they mean getting their fingers in the soup so they can have a share of the spoils."

It was much harder to repress her anger at his words, and she bristled, her hands clenched at her sides. "What exactly are you implying, Bruce?"

He looked at her for a long while, the exposed part of his face impassive. Kal and J'onn were staring at him too, their expressions similarly unreadable but she could feel the puzzlement and irritation rolling off of J'onn in waves. Finally Bruce said, "Nothing, Princess. Enjoy your evening."

She nodded, turned and left, catching Kal's exhalation and his muttered thanks that she and Batman hadn't got in _another_ argument.

/\\\

_**Hamburg, Germany**_

Bruce hadn't been completely wrong. The summit, supposedly about peace talks and ways in which they could aid Qurac's people, was very much a way for those who wanted a piece of the war torn country to show their interests. Alliances would be forged this night, ones that would ensure that Qurac remained ground under a dictator's boot. But that didn't means some good couldn't come from it. There were those here, few though they may be, that were genuinely interested in helping. Someone had to look out for the people of Qurac, especially since its government only looked to themselves.

Diana walked about the room. She was dressed in a flowing robe or red and blue, her lasso woven into it to hold it together. No one could doubt she spoke the truth tonight since she had opted to bind herself with it. It was an honest and intimidating gesture. While she wanted them to trust her, she also wanted them to remember that she was wonder Woman.

She wore her armour beneath her robe, just in case.

The evenings' debates had wound down the night, and now only perfunctory socialising was to be done. She had already delivered a speech to a packed room, calling for aid to the people, trying to heal over old wounds; a speech that she knew would fall on mostly deaf ears. Still, if only a few had listened to her then it had been worth it.

The generals of armies, the warlords and the worst of the corrupt politicians avoided her. Those she already knew from the U.N happily stopped and exchanged pleasantries, swapping stories and sharing little bits of gossip that might mean more than they actually seemed. When she had first started doing this she had been turned off by the gossip, seeing it as pointless, but she now realised that listening to these little morsels often yielded more interesting and pertinent information to the affairs of different states than what was actually spoken of for the public to hear. So she listened, and she learned.

There was a band playing, and some of the guests were dancing but not many. Waiters wandered about with trays of champagne, expertly weaving among the crowds and swiftly taking away empty glasses and replacing them with full flutes.

It was a lavish display, and perhaps the money used to for it could have been better appropriated elsewhere, rather than wasted on the rich who had no need for it.

She scanned the crowd, and then through the masses she saw something that caught her attention. She stopped and stared, and then sighed in exasperation and rolled her eyes. Across from her, standing propping up the bar was one Bruce Wayne. He stared right back at her, his eyes gleaming and his smile rakish. His hair was mussed up, someone had run their fingers through it, and there was a flush to his face that suggested he'd been enjoying the champagne a little too much, but she knew better than that.

She crossed the room towards him, snagging a flute of champagne on her way. She sipped it, and stopped before him offering him her most diplomatic smile. "Mr Wayne."

"Ambassador," he greeted raising his glass of what looked and smelled like scotch. "You look..." he waved the glass around as he searched for a word. "Wonderful."

She rolled her eyes again. "That was terrible," she said quietly. She settled herself next to the bar and looked out across the room. "I didn't realise that you'd be here."

"I'm a plus one tonight."

"Oh?"

"This type of shindig isn't really my thing." She didn't say anything to that. "See the lady dancing over there, with the big fellow."

"I do."

"She's my date. Katya Titov. She a bit of a smart cookie; wants to get into politics and has all sorts of new ideas. Her father, the good General Titov over there, is very much against this." Bruce smiled at Diana. "I think I might be being used as a bit of teenage rebellion."

"Teenage? How young is she, Bruce?"

He shrugged. "Eighteen. At least I hope she's eighteen."

Sometimes it seemed like he lived this role of an arrogant playboy a little too well, and Dian had to stop herself from feeling disgusted by his words.

"I don't think I want to know how you met her," she said.

He finished his drink and turned to the bar. "Two more please, my good man."

"I don't drink scotch."

"You should. Champagne is a girl's drink." The barman was efficient and delivered two tumblers of scotch quickly. Bruce handed one to Diana and chinked his glass against hers. "To your speech, It was quite moving."

"Don't mock me, Bruce."

"I'm not. I was being completely sincere. It was quite moving. I think you even managed to reach a few people. Though that will do little good for Qurac; a few public attempts at aid, and in a few months this will all be forgotten. There's no money to be found there so countries aren't interested unless they can use it bolster their public image. You know this."

She wished she hadn't come over to speak to him. He was right, of course, and she'd known that even as she delivered her speech calling for aid, but hearing it spoken aloud and in such a flippant manner angered her. It made her work seem so pointless. Like no matter how hard she tried she would never make a difference. She'd have more success if Wonder Woman just went there and physically threw out the army. She could physically give the country back to the people. There was no one there with the strength or power to stop her.

She lifted her glass to her lips and took a sip. The liquid was warm and bitter. What would happen after she gave the country back to the people? Another small minded power hungry lunatic would claw their way to the top and things would be worse off than before. She could, of course, always plant the flag of Themyscira and declare the country under Amazon rule. She smirked at the very idea of it. It was an absurd notion, but in a small childish way it was quite a satisfying thought.

"What are you smiling at?" Bruce asked. His voice still had that light tone that he used when he was playing the part of the useless fop. It was like nails on a chalkboard. How could he stand making himself appear so less than he was for such people as the ones here tonight?

"Nothing. Just a passing thought."

"An amusing one it would seem."

He probably wouldn't find it all that amusing. She sipped her scotch again, this time enjoying the warm burn of it in her mouth. "This isn't too bad," she said indicating the glass.

"It's cheap. If you want to taste real scotch then stop by the manor and I'll have Alfred break out the 1902 Highland Park Reserve. Of course he might cry if we open it. It would be a crime to actually drink it."

He seemed to be talking more to himself at this point, and Diana stared at him in amazement. "Have you actually been drinking?"

"Second scotch of the night," he admitted. "It's impossible to get through one of these things without a drink in hand. Besides, corrupt politicians usually have the best scotch. They just must be keeping it to themselves tonight."

"I can't tell if you're acting or not." Her voice was quiet and it was a thought she meant to keep to herself, but it was interesting seeing how Bruce reacted. His eyes widened slightly and then he shrugged his shoulders.

"I could say the same for you." She whirled towards him, feeling a stirring of anger at his implications of her playing a part, but before she could speak he said loudly, "My date appears to have found a much more interesting man to spend her time with. Perhaps, Madam Ambassador, I could interest you in a dance?"

He held his hand towards her and his smile had that breezy quality to it once more. She could feel the eyes of some on them, waiting to see what she would do. She debated saying no, or giving him a scathing put down, but truthfully she did want to dance with him. He was an excellent dancer and it had been a long time since she had last done it with him.

She took his hand in her own. "Lead on, Mr Wayne."

He did. Gripping her hand tightly he pulled her enthusiastically to the middle of the dance floor, and then to him. He placed a hand on her hip, and she one on his shoulder, and they easily fell into step. They had danced together several times before, usually at charity functions, and the feel of him pressed against her as they moved smoothly across the dance floor was welcome and familiar.

She was wearing flat sandals, without the added inches her boots usually gave her in costume she was the shorter of them tonight, though only by about an inch. His smile was still in place but this close to him she could see that it didn't reach his eyes.

"Are you okay?" She murmured.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" He answered. He spoke quietly but his voice still carried the flippant tone of the playboy, and once more it made her want to hit him.

"Something's wrong. You're distracted, your mind is elsewhere."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because I know you, Bruce, and over the years I've known you I've learned to read you."

"Have you now."

He clearly didn't believe her. His hubris wouldn't allow him to acknowledge that those closest to him knew him well and were able to read him. Even after so many years as part of a team he thought himself alone and untouchable. That was a sad thought.

Of course one didn't need to know him well to see the pink rims to his eyes, the shadows beneath them, and the general weariness that infused his body. He was a sturdy man, but she could almost feel him sagging against her, like he desperately wanted to take the weight off his feet, or perhaps from his shoulders.

"Are you hurt? Injured perhaps?" She enquired.

"You're worrying too much," he muttered.

"I don't think I am."

"Well I think you are."

"You're not acting like yourself."

"Really? And how should I be acting?"

She frowned. She didn't really have an answer for that. Truthfully she didn't spend enough time around his playboy facade and so she wasn't sure if how he was acting here would be out of character for it, and then if he was in the middle of his playact then she couldn't really say that what she was seeing here meant that something was actually wrong with him. He looked tired, but then he lived a busy life. It would probably be more worrying if he didn't look weary. And really the company here tonight was enough to make anyone contemplate taking a swan dive off of the balcony.

He removed his hand from her hip and brushed an errant strand of hair from her face, tucking it neatly behind her ear. It was an oddly gentle gesture and to her own mild embarrassment she felt a slight flush in her cheeks and her heart fluttered in her chest. He didn't miss it, of course he didn't, and he smirked at her, all playboy leer and the effect was immediately lost and once more she felt the kindling of annoyance.

She opened her mouth to try and verbalise her thoughts but all she emitted was a surprised squeak as Bruce's hand clamped down on her backside and pulled her in closer to him, pressing her intimately against his body.

"Is this a little bit more like how I should be acting?"

"What are you doing?" she hissed. They had stopped dancing and were just standing there, far too close to each other and surrounded by people who were all staring at them.

"What, you think infamous billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne is really going to dance with the most beautiful woman in the world and not try his chances?" His voice was low, so quiet that she was sure only she would be able to hear him. He was still leering at her in that ridiculous way.

"Take your hand off me," she said not keeping her voice low, and only just managing to keep the indignation out of her voice. She couldn't tell if he was deliberately trying to provoke her or if this was all part of some elaborate ruse. Either way she was fairly sure that her anger was the required reaction.

His grin faltered, and it was either some of the best acting she had ever seen, or the look in her eyes suggested that she might actually murder him if he didn't remove his hand. He backed away from her, his eyes flickering to the sides, and his hands held up in a placating manner.

"Apologies Madam Ambassador," he said. "I, uh, lost control of myself for a moment. Who can blame me though, right guys?" he looked about him as though searching for support. She was oddly grateful that he found none. Upon realising that no one was rallying to him he gave off a nervous chuckle that sounded completely wrong coming from him knowing who he was.

"Apology accepted, Mister Wayne," she said stiffly. Some of those watching relaxed, while others look disappointed as though they were hoping that she and Bruce would make a spectacle out of themselves. She was thankful it hadn't come to that. Bruce had pushed his little charade far enough as far as she was concerned.

"So is it true what they say about Amazons?" He was grinning again, his eyes twinkling with mischief and all at once Diana understood what he was doing. He was sealing his reputation as Bruce Wayne, because he was right, why would Bruce Wayne pass up the opportunity to make a pass at her. He was also drawing her attention away from him, distracting her form enquiring about his health and well-being.

_Very good, Bruce,_ she thought. Not good enough though. She waited, a bored expression in her face, for whatever offensive platitude he was going to espouse.

"That you gals can take it six ways from Sunday and still have enough stamina to finish off the month?"

Diana raised an eyebrow. It was actually a lot less offensive than she had been expecting, certainly a lot less crude. She doubted though that Bruce truly wanted to insult her though, so it shouldn't have been all that surprising.

"If it were Mister Wayne, it would be wasted on you. From what I understand asking you for merely an evening is asking for too much. I hear that the minute is well within your grasp though."

He winced. A few people tittered with nervous laughter. Diana didn't wait to hear anymore, mustering all of the indignant air she could she turned on her heel and marched from the room. This would probably be in the papers tomorrow. Hopefully it wouldn't garner that much attention.

And hopefully no one would notice her amused smile as she left the room.

\\\/

_I've been wanting to write a BMWW fic for a while, but I struggled to come up with an idea. Not to sound insulting (or up my own ass) but when reading BMWW fics it feels like they're in a bit of a rut. While many are very well written they (nearly) all seem to cover the exact same themes, characterisation and nearly the same story with just slightly different trappings. So this is my effort, poor though it may be, to try something different. We'll see how well I do._

_I'm using a mix of continuities here, so you'll see stuff from both the comics and from the DCAU, though mostly the comics. Its fanfic and I feel that it's the place I'll get away with it. I'll post notes at the end of each chapter to explain stuff if I feel it needs an explanation._

_Rated M because there will probably be lemons later on._

_No beta so all mistakes are my own. Please feel free to point them out to me._


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